Løvens Hule

Frederikke Jul Vedelsby
I haven't got my eyes in yet

You have to visit that church, really you have to, it is burned inside, the burned inside looks like your drawings. I went past the church one afternoon, and, remembering she said that, went inside. The mass was about to begin and I sat down on the bench. Get up, sit down, kneel. We make the sign of the cross and I follow up to the altar as the pastor hands out oblates. I doubt whether we will consume the oblate, we are all wearing face masks, and I sit back on the bench, keeping the oblate inside my hand. A woman in denim clothes spots this. She stares at me with contempt and comes over. She points to the oblate, which is invisibly tucked between my hands. I hurry to swallow it, the small, all-absorbing circle that sticks to my tongue and is hard to get down. She interrupts the Mass and she shouts something to the pastor, she shouts and points at me and everyone looks in my direction. I sit still.

The church was, as she had said, in its splendor, burned inside. I get dizzy on the way home and scared of a heart attack. But it's probably dizziness caused by low blood sugar or planetary constellations. I buy a sandwich in flatbread, the young man who makes it rolls it, challenged, with locked fingers, careful. Outside, I meet the eyes of a man I assume has lenses in. His eyes are completely black and shiny. A shock goes through me and I look back at the woman in the church pointing to the oblate, invisible between my hands, with my dark shiny eyes.

-Frederikke Jul Vedelsby

Frederikke Jul Vedelsby works with video and drawing. She holds an MFA from Malmö Art Academy (2020), recieved Bror Hjorths stipendium for drawing artists and is currently a part of the Maumaus independent study program.

tegning
2021
bivoks, olie og forkullede vinstokke på papir.